


frozen heart

by spookyscaryskeletons (Buttons15)



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Northrulda Anna, Revolutionary Guerrilla Kristoff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttons15/pseuds/spookyscaryskeletons
Summary: Her eyes met Anna’s for a split second and she saw a nearly imperceptible nod. There was a trick to dealing with their father – she had to let him feel as if he’d won.“I’ll do it!” Elsa stood abruptly, so fast she nearly threw her chair to the ground. “I’ll marry the southern prince. Leave Anna be.”“Absolutely not,” Agnarr stood perfectly still, eyes going from Elsa to Anna and then back. “The Isles are a good commercial partner, yes, and their military and navy are not negligible,” He stepped forward, and the candlelight cast shadows on his face, “But they’re not worth the hand of the heir.”--AU - basically a full frozen 1-2 rewrite where there is no magic mist keeping the lands apart, and the parents are alive. i don't even know how to describe this. totally makes sense in my head.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 134
Kudos: 246





	1. Chapter 1

_At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain –_

Elsa put the book down when she heard the gates screech open, her heart squeezing uncomfortably in her chest. She’d been both dreading and anticipating this moment – though Anna visited her in Arendelle as often as she could, it had been over a year since she’d seen her sister.

It would take Anna between five and twenty minutes from gate to Elsa’s bedroom, depending on whether Agnarr would bother to greet her. Given that there were no guests, Elsa figured he wouldn’t, which gave her little time to psychologically prepare for the encounter. She’d been bracing herself for weeks, but her mind still flip-flopped between cold detachment and uncontrolled anguish.

Elsa took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together. The gloves that covered them robbed her of the tactile comfort of skin touching skin.

She was tired.

Anna knocked on the door with the same specific pattern she always used. Elsa found herself oddly grateful for the gesture – of all the people in her life, Anna had always been the one to accommodate her the most, picking up on details that even Elsa herself would overlook. Elsa found comfort in patterns and routine. Anna knew that, and so she knocked the same way every time.

She opened the door and smiled. Despite the overall situation, it was sincere.

“Sister!” Anna beamed as always, wrapping her arms around Elsa and nearly knocking her down.

She looked out of place, wearing Northruldan leathers in the heart of Arendelle’s aristocracy, but that, not unlike her weekly letters, represented a much-welcome break in Elsa’s routine. Elsa hugged her back, tentatively, lingering for a bit longer than it would have been polite because she knew Anna didn’t mind. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, and the confession was not nearly enough to alleviate the pressure building up inside her chest. 

“I’ve missed you, too.” Anna pulled back and grabbed her by the shoulders. Elsa could see the skin on Anna’s shoulders was peeling, likely from a sunburn, and it brought her to the disorienting realization that it was already summer. Anna bumped their foreheads together, then hugged her again. “Our schedules never match! I can’t tell which one of us has the rotten luck, but it’s becoming inconvenient.”

 _Luck has very little to do with it,_ Elsa thought, but chose not to voice it. She knew they were being kept apart. She knew there was little she could do about it. “I’m just glad I get to see you,” her hands sought her sister’s and gave them a squeeze. “Anna…” the words got stuck on her throat, and she swallowed them down.

Anna tilted her head, and Elsa’s hesitation must have shown on her face, because Anna squeezed her hands back. “Whatever it is, don’t worry and take your time.” She smiled again, hopping from one foot to the other. “And while you do, I got a thousand things to tell you! But first, I got you something –” She turned around and went out of the room.

Elsa blinked. Anna always seemed cooped up when she visited, as if the walls of Arendelle were a cage to her limitless energy. They were opposites even there, because the open forests of the north where Anna was at her most free left Elsa feeling lost and exposed.

Elsa took a seat on the bed and waited. When Anna walked back into the room, she was holding a blanket. Elsa frowned, but didn’t ask, instead waiting for her sister to join her. Anna wobbled back to her, struggling with the weight of the blanket as if it were unusually heavy. Sure enough, when Elsa picked it up, she felt that the insides were filled with what felt like sand.

“It’s a…” She hesitated. “A really heavy blanket?”

Anna nodded eagerly. “Yes! Remember last time I was here I asked you why did you have so many blankets if you didn’t even feel the cold because of your magic –”

Elsa nodded.

“ – and then you told me that you found the weight comforting. So I talked to Maren about it and she helped me make this – we took really small and round pebbles, the ones at the bottom of the river, it took forever to gather enough, and then we had to sew them into place –”

Elsa ran her fingers over the soft tissue, feeling unspeakably moved. She felt a dull ache on her chest and a nearly-irresistible urge to cry. It was hard, keeping her walls up around Anna. And she was _so_ tired.

“ – so? Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, kicking off her slippers and bringing her feet into the bed. She pulled Anna closer. “Here, let’s try it.”

“Yes, let’s!” Anna’s cheerfulness was contagious. They scooted together and Elsa pulled the blanket over them. The weight was as comforting, and she toyed with the cloth. Anna cuddled up to her chest. “I see your point. It feels like a hug.”

Elsa smiled. “It does.” She stared at her sister for a long moment, building up her mental fortitude. “Anna, there’s something you need to know –”

“Stop!” Anna covered Elsa’s mouth. Elsa blinked, surprised, but fell into silence. Anna sighed. “It’s bad news, isn’t it? I can tell it is by your face. So just don’t tell me. Not yet. I missed you. Let me have this moment. Let _yourself_ have this moment. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

Elsa didn’t have the strength to refuse. “All right,” she sought Anna’s hand and squeezed it. “Tell me, then. How is –” _How is mother,_ she meant to ask, but there was a bitter resentment which held the words back. “– how are Maren and Ryder?”

“You wouldn’t recognize them if you saw them,” Anna bumped her feet against Elsa’s. She wore socks, which Elsa never did. “It’s been what, six years since you last went up north?”

 _Six years, eight months and two weeks,_ she thought. “Something like that. Father demands a lot of me in Arendelle. I don’t –” She gave Anna a helpless look, “I don’t mean to say that your work is lesser in any way. I wish I could visit, I really do, but –”

Anna, as always, understood what she meant even when she scrambled for words. “I get it. Mother is easier to deal with than Father. He keeps you on a horribly short leash, as if you’d run away if he let you get too far from his sights.”

Elsa rubbed her face with her palms. “Tempting.”

“There’s a goahti waiting for you if you ever do.” Anna elbowed her lightly. “You’re as much a Northrulda as I am. Don’t forget that. They’re your people too.”

Elsa scoffed. It was easy to let her guard down around Anna, easy to let too many words slip. “I don’t know. Not even Arendelle feels quite like home.” 

“They say home is where the heart is,” Anna poked her on the chest. “And you keep your heart behind so many walls, it figures you would feel lost.” Elsa scowled. Anna poked her on the nose. “You know I’m right. Don’t give me that face.”

“I don’t like feelings,” She mumbled. Anna wrapped an arm around Elsa’s shoulder and Elsa sighed, leaning into her touch. “I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me of the reindeer.”

Anna’s face fell. “They’re doing all right, but…” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t worry you with such matters.”

“No. Anna.” She straightened her back, brows furrowing into a frown. “The things which concern you are my top priorities. Tell me.”

It was Anna’s turn to sigh. “Our grandfather’s dam… it doesn’t do well for the land. Each year we have to travel further for good pastures. The herd gets tired, hungry and has less babies as a result. And because we rely so much on the reindeer, we… things can get tough for us, too.” Anna turned to face her. “Sister, I tell you this because…” she shrugged. “Father won’t ever do anything about the dam. It’s too precious to him, a monument to Arendelle’s memory. But it’s not a good thing.”

Elsa felt the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, and she didn’t usually mind – or rather, didn’t usually _care,_ making her decisions with cold indifference. But this was different. Anna had asked her a question, implicit between her words, and it was one which her heart knew the answer to.

“I’ll do something about it. I don’t know what, but I’ll study ways to solve this. I’ll fix it. For you, Anna,” She placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder and squeezed. “For you, anything. _Anything_ , okay?”

And if it spited her father or tarnished his memory, all the better.

“Don’t say that.” Anna grabbed Elsa’s hands and pulled them from under the blanket. “You’re bright. You know sometimes we’ll make decisions that put us at odds with one another, and that’s fine. That’s just how it is, and I trust your judgment even when I disagree with it. But this, Elsa, this I ask not as a leader, but as a sister, because father sees this matter not through the eyes of a king, but through the eyes of a son. The dam is poison. It has to go, somehow.”

“It will,” Elsa bit her inner cheek, hard enough that her mouth was flooded with the taste of blood. “And I meant it. Arendelle may not feel like home, but you do.” She did mean it. The effort of saying it, or maybe the blood, made her nauseous. “I’ll take it down. You have my word.”

“It breaks my fucking heart every single time I have to leave you behind. Alone.” Anna’s hands drifted to the cloth of Elsa’s gloves, gently tugging them off and setting Elsa’s fingers free. “It’s not fair to either of us, but you got the short end of the stick by far.”

Elsa raised her eyes to the ceiling absently. The dull heartache which accompanied her every day seemed to increase tenfold when she was around her sister, because Anna was a reminder of all the things she could not have. She could have resented her sister for it, maybe, but she made a point to direct her anger to the right people.

“I did, but knowing you’re well makes me feel a lot better.” Anna’s fingers were warm against hers, and she almost lost her control right then, at the sheer overwhelming sensation of being touched. “I wish you wouldn’t do this,” she said, though she made no movement to break contact. “It’s getting stronger. The magic, I mean. It worries me.”

“You have never hurt me,” Anna squeezed her hand. “Not when you were little and just learning. Not when we made our first snowman. Not when dad yelled at me and you froze half the castle over. You’re in control. The gloves are…” Anna glanced at them, then back to Elsa. “They’re a violence.”

It was true, and Elsa knew it. And _yet_ she was scared, because – “I’m about to hurt you.”

Anna took a deep breath, then sighed. “What is it, then? Say it, so we may stare at it in the face.”

Elsa stared at her own hands, how they trembled despite her effort, and wondered why others were so afraid of her magic, when it was her words which cut deep and left scars. “You’re getting married.”

There was a long moment of tense silence in which Anna didn’t face her, and Elsa knew Anna like the back of her hand. She _knew_ her sister was fighting back tears, trying to hide the shock and the pain and the sheer powerlessness.

 _It’s all we do_ , she realized, and took her fingers to Anna’s cheek. _We pretend to be stronger than we are, so that we may rely on each other like a house of cards._

“I saw it coming,” Anna said finally, her voice hoarse, then cleared her throat. “Mother warned me about this. That not all choices would be my own. That I would have no control over… certain aspects of my life. There’s a reason why I’ve never taken a partner – I knew it would make things harder.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and scoffed. “I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. I’ve barely turned eighteen, fucking hell.”

“Fucking hell,” Elsa agreed. “The man is… not hideous, at least?”

Anna gave her a deadpan stare, then burst out laughing. The absurdity of the situation dawned on Elsa then, and she snickered, a weird mixture of despair and exhaustion coming out of her lungs as an incontrollable fit of giggles.

“I’d be more worried if I hadn’t been trying to puzzle out your taste in men for the last three or four years,” Anna fell back against the pillow. “From what I gathered, you have a male appreciation scale composed of several different types of repulsion, and _not hideous_ is actually as good as it gets.”

The offhanded remark sparked a whole new world of anxiety which she rather not deal with, and she shoved it to the back of her mind. “You’re not too far off,” she said dismissively, then turned the conversation back to Anna. “He’s a prince, too. From the Southern Islands.”

“Right. And what’s the deal being struck with them that happens to have me as an asset?”

“It’s an open-borders treaty with plans for an eventual coin unification. I’ll give you the written details tomorrow, if you want them.” She licked her dry lips, feeling relieved that the truth was out there. “I thought you’d object more.”

“Oh, I will,” Anna smirked. “Just not to you. It would achieve nothing. But to father, for sure.” She drummed her fingers on the blanket. “I hate this. I hate that he has you telling me, instead of doing it himself. I hate that he…” Anna’s gaze grew unfocused for a moment. “He’s trying to tear us apart. Drive a wedge between us. But you and I, we’re smarter than that.”

Elsa narrowed her eyes. Anna’s tone hinted she was planning something. “What are we going to do?”

“Same old deal – ask for twice what I want, so we may settle in the middle.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to get married, much less to a stranger, but I have little hopes of changing that. But I want to get married in the north, at least. Surrounded by the people I grew up with. That’s my price.”

Elsa took a moment to think. “Can do. We’ll pressure him both ways. Sounds like a possible compromise.” She hesitated. “But he might deliver some low blows. You know father will make use of foul play if he has to.”

“Then let’s make a promise,” Anna grabbed her hand. Elsa interlaced their fingers. “Promise me that we won’t give him what he wants - we won’t let anything he says get between us. Whatever happens, we’ll talk it out between the two of us.”

Elsa nodded. “I can promise that.”

“Great!” Anna let go of her hand, only to grab it again and shake it. “We have a deal. So with that out of the way, let me tell you all about what happened at the last summer solstice festival –“

Elsa closed her eyes and listened.

* * *

Their promise was exactly as hard to keep as Elsa had expected. Talking with her father had always been a game of chess – one wrong word, one slip, and it was checkmate. He was good at reading people, good enough that in order to shield herself from his piercing mind, Elsa ended up not knowing entire parts of herself.

It was a delicate balance to be kept, the right amount of obliviousness versus self-awareness. But she kept her focus. Her father would want her to say something to hurt Anna, play into their insecurities and misunderstandings. She just had to keep herself from that.

Elsa set her face into inexpressive neutrality and waited for her father’s next move.

“This is non-negotiable,” Agnarr paced back and forth the room, hands behind his back. “The Southern Islands are valuable allies and backing off on this kind of deal would create a diplomatic storm of unseen proportions.”

“Then you should have talked to me before making it!” Anna rose her voice, just a little. “Has it not crossed your mind that you need my consent in offering my hand in marriage?”

Agnarr pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned to Elsa. “I thought I had explicitly tasked you with making your sister see sense. I expected better from you. From both of you.”

Her eyes met Anna’s for a split second and she saw a nearly imperceptible nod. There was a trick to dealing with their father – she had to let him feel as if he’d won. Elsa bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” her voice was emotionless. “I tried, but I –“

“She’d have to make a miracle,” Anna interrupted. They’d rehearsed this. Elsa managed to look offended. “I’m not getting married.”

“You are and you will –“

“I’ll do it!” Elsa stood abruptly, so fast she nearly threw her chair to the ground. “I’ll marry the southern prince. Leave Anna be.”

This, too, was a calculated outburst – a moment of emotional vulnerability, something that would lure her father into the offensive. She knew there would be backlash. She braced herself for it and saw the subtlest hints that Anna did the same – the tensing of her fists, the squaring of her shoulders, the steel in her eyes.

“Absolutely not,” Agnarr stood perfectly still, eyes going from Elsa to Anna and then back. “The Isles are a good commercial partner, yes, and their military and navy are not negligible,” He stepped forward, and the candlelight cast shadows on his face, “But they’re not worth the hand of the heir.”

There it was – driving a knife between their ribs, pushing them against one another. Elsa knew it would happen, and she was still hit by the panic the words caused, the fear that this would be the thing that drove Anna away, the thing that would make her letters stop coming.

But she didn’t show it. For this to work, they had to be perfect in synch, their thoughts united as one. So Elsa concealed, and held on to her trust.

And Anna flinched. “I see. Because this is what I am. The spare.” She sneered. “Well you better find yourself a new backup child, because I’m –“

“Anna,” Elsa took a tentative step forward. The gloves were itchy against her skin, and she longed to yank them off. “Anna, please.” Another step. Anna’s gaze softened. From the corner of her vision, she saw Agnarr watch them closely. This is what he expected of her – a last minute desperate ploy to mend things with her sister. She acted it out impeccably. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing. We can – you can do it up north, maybe. With the tribe.”

She waited for her father’s response – for her perfectly timed turntables. He cleared his throat. “Marriages are important ceremonies in Arendellian culture –“

Elsa slammed her hand on the table, and ice traveled through her gloves and over the wood, reaching the edge and taking the shape of dangerous spikes. Her father backed away, inhaling sharply, and she took some delight in the brief flash of horror in his eyes, even if the way he recoiled made her feel like a monster.

“ _Please_ ,” Elsa repeated, though this time, her tone carried a laced threat.

Anna closed the distance between them and placed her hands on Elsa’s shoulder. Elsa searched her face for reassurance and found relief in her lack of fear. Like everything else, that moment of magical instability had been calculated, and _yet_ Elsa worried.

“Okay. If you can agree to that…” Anna turned to their father. “I’ll marry this man, but we do it the Northruldan way. I’ll feel more comfortable. It’s a compromise.”

Agnarr took a deep breath, then sighed. “I suppose a wedding celebration would help quell the rising tensions up north. Fine.” He smiled, and more than ever, Elsa hated him then. “I knew the two of you would come through. You are good girls.” His eyes drifted to the ice, “I’ll have the servants clean this up.”

He walked out of the room without further words, and as soon as Elsa heard the door close, Anna pulled her into a tight hug and she felt herself crumble. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, pressing her face against Anna’s shoulder. It was an awkward position, because she was a lot taller. “I’m so sorry –“

“It’s okay,” Anna rubbed soothing circles on her back. “I’m sorry, too. But you did good. We did good. It worked. Elsa, it worked.”

 _I cannot fucking take this anymore,_ she thought, but didn’t say. “Anna. What he said about –“

“Shh,” Anna cut her short and pulled back to stare her in the eyes. “Don’t say it. Don’t repeat it. Those words only have as much power as we let them have. You know who I am to you. I know who you are to me.” She poked Elsa on the chest. “And that’s all that matters.”

 _This will never end,_ she thought, but didn’t say. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry still. I wish I could have gotten you out of this.” She tipped her head and let the ghost of a smile touch her lips. “I’ll be queen eventually. Maybe then, if you want, I’ll get him assassinated.”

Anna laughed, and Elsa felt the weight on her shoulders lessen. “I don’t know. I’ll give the guy a honest chance. I bet he’s just as miserable about this whole ordeal as I am. Maybe we’ll bond over that.”

“Always seeing the bright side,” Elsa mused, smirking. “Well, as your big sister, I have your back. Let me know if you need –“ She drew a horizontal line over her own neck with her index finger. “Beheadings or other things.”

Anna elbowed her on the ribs. “Got my back, huh? Just like you did when we were little?” She grinned. “Because I recall the exact opposite of you having my back. I recall you pranking me every single time I got within reach.”

“You were too innocent. Too easy of a target. I couldn’t stop myself.” Elsa absently wiped her own cheeks clean of the tracks the tears had left there. “You’re lucky I hardly see you. Stay around me long enough, and I’ll do it again.”

“Careful,” Anna’s hands moved to Elsa’s gloves, pulling them off as she always did. “I’ve grown up around Maren and Ryder. I’d say I am much better prepared for mischievous behavior than you are.”

“Psh. I’m still smarter.” She wiggled her fingers, thin strands of magic dancing between them. She raised her eyes to meet Anna’s. “Thank you. I –“ the words got stuck on her throat, and she paused for a moment. “It gets hard around here. Father is…”

“Demanding, authoritarian and emotionally distant?” Anna suggested in a tone far too cheery for the words she’d spoken.

Elsa snorted, then nodded.

Anna grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Someday, I don’t know how, but someday, I’ll get you out of this mess. And then you can go up to the forest with me, chase the reindeer. And meet Maren and Ryder again! Maybe you’ll be sweet on one of them –“

“Anna –“

“Don’t give me that look, they’ve both grown up to be completely dashing!” Anna winked. Elsa gave her exactly _that_ look, and she laughed. “I mean it, sis. Father is fucked up, but even a king can’t control everything. We’ll get you out. I promise.”

 _I love you,_ Elsa thought, but didn’t say. She wished she could be around her sister more. She wished their family wasn’t torn apart by the silent game of tug-of-war that their parents had been playing for as long as she could remember. She wished her mother hadn’t left her behind. She wished –

“I’m so fucking tired,” she rubbed her face with her palm.

“I know.” Anna moved her hand to Elsa’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Go have a bath and then some sleep. Don’t worry about father. I’ll keep him busy with wedding preparations.”

The exhaustion Elsa felt wasn’t the kind that could be relieved with resting her body and they both knew it, but she acquiesced with a nod. “Are you sure you’ll be fine, handling him?”

“If big sisters specialize in mean pranks, little sisters specialize in pestering,” Anna winked. “I’ll drive him crazy with so many details, he won’t have any energy left to nag you.” She pushed Elsa forward, on the direction of the door. “Come on. Go. Sleep. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Elsa nodded, letting herself be led outside. “Maybe I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Buttons, the fuck is this?"  
> it's like, an AU where I try to more or less cover the plot holes between movies in a comprehensible way as I wait for my inevitable demise at the hands of the coronavirus 
> 
> "How canon-divergent are we talking about, here?"  
> yes
> 
> "Do you even have a plan for this plot??"  
> my sweet summer child, all my stories have plans. not all get to the end, but all have plans
> 
> "Is that a hint of elsanna I see here?"  
> absolutely fucking NOT and if anyone as much as insinuates this, I'm calling the freudian police to drag them to therapy  
> THEY'RE JUST CARING SISTERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD
> 
> "Is this a fever dream or did you tag this with "revolutionary guerrila kristoff?"  
> wait for it


	2. Chapter 2

On the back of a chariot pulled by the most beautiful of their horses, Anna sat on the back of a chart with her mother and watched the soldiers march ahead of them. It was only logical that her father would turn the wedding into a show of force – it was a win for the Northrulda that the ceremony would follow their traditions, and Agnarr never gave in without taking something back.

Anna had a whirlwind of thoughts running through her mind – more than that, a whirlwind of _feelings_ – and as the chariot wobbled through the rocky road, she found herself with a desperate need to run. She tapped her foot, trying to dissipate the nervous energy.

She wished she had someone she could confide in – Elsa, Maren or even Ryder. She had a good relationship with her mother, she really did, but there was always some incipient awkwardness between the two whenever Anna returned from Arendelle.

There was a lot to unpack there, Anna knew, but if she was given the choice, she rather just throw away the whole suitcase. Unfortunately for her, as it often was in her life, she was given no choice at all.

“Anna,” Iduna spoke up, loud enough that it could be heard over the rattling of the wooden wheels. “There’s a few things you should know about getting married.”

They were a lot alike, Elsa and her mother. It was an unquestionable fact, but one Anna avoided thinking about, because it reminded her of its obvious counterpart – if Elsa took after their mother, then Anna took after Agnarr. She and her father shared their empathy, how understanding people came easily to them.

Agnarr had learned to weaponize that. Anna had, too, albeit unwillingly. She had to, if she wanted to defend herself and her sister. But it was one hell of a habit to break, something she was reminded of as she instinctively read the vulnerability in her mother’s tone and a part of her, which she longed to suppress, prepared to pounce.

“I don’t want to know it,” Anna admitted, staring off the window. “I don’t think…” She shrugged. “We’re very different, you and I. To an extent where most things you say probably won’t apply to me.”

“Mmh.” Iduna went quiet for so long, Anna thought she wouldn’t continue. But she shifted, making the seat creak, and cleared her throat before speaking again. “Is it me, do you think, or is it you? Who’s the odd one between us?”

Anna licked her lips, curling them into a humorless smile. She considered the question. “It’s both of us, I think. We’re… atypical in our own ways. Your mind turns left, mine turns right, but we’re each walking our own crooked paths.” Anna tapped her finger against her cheek absently. “But I appreciate…” _You trying to be a maternal figure,_ “I appreciate the offer.”

 _She isn’t a bad mother,_ Anna thought as they fell into silence again. _Though she isn’t particularly a good one, either._

It wasn’t entirely fair – despite their intrinsic communication issues, Anna had little to complain about Iduna’s treatment of her. But she was empathetic in nature, and so she couldn’t help but commiserate with her sister’s predicament. Anna got the sense that her mother knew that, too, hence the palpable tension after her Arendelle trips.

“Let me try something else, then,” Iduna crossed her arms, but didn’t make eye contact. “Is there something you want to know? About marriage, or… about life in general. Something which my experience could help you with, perhaps.”

 _No, she is a good mother,_ Anna argued back against herself, watching Iduna’s unemotional expression, the slightest tension to her brows. _But she chose to be mother to only one of us._

“Tell me of your regrets,” Anna turned her gaze back to the horses outside. “The things you wish you’d done differently. The things that keep you up at night.”

_Tell me why you left my sister behind. Tell me you didn’t mean it._

Her mother was quiet again. Anna let her take her time – she’d asked a difficult question, and Iduna was one to think before she spoke. Anna kept track of the time by counting the clopping sounds of the chariot horses’ shoes.

“I know what you want to hear,” Iduna said finally, and once again she did not meet Anna’s eyes. “That I made a mistake letting your father raise your sister. That I regret giving up on a daughter to fulfill the expectations of a monarchy I wasn’t even raised into. That I wish I could take it back.”

“Do you?”

Iduna shrugged. “Does it matter?”

A typical response. Iduna was so action-oriented, so focused on the present and the future and the things she could change, she hardly gave any thought to all of life’s _what ifs_. Anna sought out intentions. Her mother sought out results. It was just one more piece of the puzzle that was this unbridgeable gap between them.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Anna relented, because though she did mind the feelings behind the actions, at the end of the day, this wasn’t about her – it was about Elsa. And Elsa, just like their mother, cared very little for the things that could have been. But perhaps there was a lesson she could learn from this, after all. “How do I… prevent myself from ever having to make such choice?”

Her mother was a woman of plans and decisions, and so it was only natural that the best advice she could give would be regarding the future. Iduna paused again, biting her bottom lip, and Anna could almost see the gears turn inside her head.

“You make him love you,” Iduna’s tone was barely above a whisper. “And you don’t let yourself love him back. Because if you do, Anna, that’s when you’ll make the decisions you will come to regret.”

Anna weighted her mother’s words and sighed. “Sounds like a dim way to live.”

“Less than you’d think,” Iduna brushed her fingers against Anna’s cheek, then pulled her hand back. “You’ll feel other kinds of love in your life. The love between you and your sister, between you and the children you will eventually have. The love between you and your people. But the kind of love between lovers, the kind you read in books…” She shrugged. “That’s a privilege for people who are not like you.”

“Like me,” Anna repeated. She raised her eyes to the cloudless sky. There was a dull ache forming in her chest, a need to cry which she bottled because she knew crying made her mother uncomfortable. “A heir? Royalty? Or like me…” she shrugged. “Like me, Anna?”

“Bit of both, really.” Iduna touched her shoulder. “Were your mind dull and your thoughts vapid, then things would be easier. You could fall for a handsome man chosen for you, and you’d be happy with the pretty jewels and the fancy dresses. But you’re sharp, and you notice things, and that is, in its own way, a blessing and a curse, because you’ll always want more.”

“More than dresses and jewels?” She arched her eyebrows. Anna was one to appreciate beauty, be it through clothes or accessories or paintings or poetry. But she knew her priorities would always be people over things. “What else could I possibly want?”

She didn’t mean to be sassy, but it got the better out of her. Anna was too hot-blooded to repress her feelings for long – eventually, like a tea kettle, steam began to leak between her words. Fortunately, Iduna was notably thick-skinned and more than used to her acidic outbursts.

“Respect, for one.” Iduna replied, altogether ignoring her jab. “Equality. Partnership. Being seen not merely as a wife, but as a friend, a lover, and above all, a person.”

“Perhaps not using me as a bargaining chip could have given me better footing to start with, then.” She exhaled through her mouth, letting the air out between her teeth.

“I didn’t wish this life upon you, Anna,” Iduna pulled her hand back from where it had been resting on Anna’s shoulder. “But it was the only life I could give you. It was the life I had. I don’t know what to say to you,” she shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. But know this: ultimately, loving someone is a learned thing. It’s a choice. And you have to choose… you have to choose good people, lest they’ll take what you give them and hurt you with it.”

She stopped talking. Anna didn’t speak, instead focusing on the shouted commands that came from the outside. The carriage lurched to a stop. She waited for the driver to open the door, already preparing to stand –

Her mother grabbed her wrist. “I do regret it,” she said, finally looking Anna in the eyes. “I regret leaving your sister behind. I regret it every time she looks at me and I can tell – I can tell she hates me.”

“She –“ _doesn’t,_ Anna thought, but the words got caught on her throat before they reached her lips. It was an instinctive thought, she realized, born from the urge to comfort her mother. It wasn’t necessarily a truth. “She might,” Anna admitted instead.

“She has a right to,” Iduna let go of her, but Anna didn’t move. “I made the decision to love your father. I thought he was a better man than he truly was. That decision cost me your sister.” She was tearing up, and it was such a rare sight, Anna needed a second to understand it. “But you can see right through people, you’re –“

 _Like him_ , the unspoken words hung in the air. Anna felt a lump in her throat. She knew if she tried to speak, she’d end up crying.

“ – you have better judgment than I had, at your age,” Iduna completed. “Maybe your prince is a good man. Maybe you’ll be able to make the decision to trust him with your love. But if you don’t, or even if you’re just not sure, then remember what I said, because that will keep you safe.”

Iduna stood and offered her a hand. Anna took it and let herself be pulled up. Her knees were wobbly, though whether from the long ride or from the harsh words, she wasn’t sure.

“I wish you the greatest happiness. I hope you’ll have the privilege I never had – the chance to love and be loved like that. But if you don’t, remember,” Iduna leaned in and pressed a kiss against her forehead, “Remember I’ll always be your mother, and I’ll be here for you.”

Iduna was crying then, they both were, and when Anna pulled her into a hug, she hoped if she squeezed hard enough, it could glue the pieces of her mother’s broken heart back together. She hoped. She loved. It was all she could ever do, and yet it felt like holding up the world.

And then the carriage door slid open and Anna found herself wiping the corners of her eyes hastily, stepping between the soldier and Iduna to give the older woman time to recompose herself. To her credit, it took Iduna mere seconds to recover, her face turning into impassiveness so fast, even the red eyes seemed to be from sleepiness rather than from tears.

When she stepped outside, grateful for a chance to stretch her legs, she saw him there – looking as lost and confused as she felt, prince Hans of the Southern Isles noticed she was staring and smiled at her. She’d seen him around more than once, though they had yet to be allowed to talk – as with everything, her father wanted complete control over their relationship, and he knew those first moments were crucial for the future the two would build.

An idea crossed her mind then, a tantalizing act of rebellion. Her father would want to be present for their introduction, but he was there, right there, and Agnarr was nowhere to be seen, and by the height of the sun and the grumble of her stomach, they were stopping for lunch.

Making a split-second decision, she dodged behind the carriage, then the next one, sneaking between the horses, only to reappear right behind him. She tapped his shoulder and he jumped back, an undignified squeal escaping his throat.

When he saw who it was, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “I – you surprised me!”

 _You make him love you,_ her mother’s words echoed in her head, and she put on her brightest smile and extended her hand. “Hi,” she raised her eyes to meet his. “Nice to meet you, fiancée. I’m Anna.”

And Hans smiled right back.

* * *

Of all emotions Maren was used to feeling when preparing a wedding party – and she’d prepared plenty of those – bitterness was a new one. She’d experienced joy and excitement and even concern, but nothing compared to this second-handed anger, to this righteous rage she felt at Anna’s situation.

Nothing about it was fair, and because she loved Anna as if she were her own sister, Maren couldn’t stop the bubbling fury that seemed to run through her veins. But when she heard the goahti flap be pushed open, she knew indignancy wasn’t what Anna would need from her.

And though she wasn’t quite sure how to help, she did know Anna well enough to know affection was a good place to start. She stood, and when their eyes met, Maren was already smiling despite the whole situation. It was hard not to – such was the power of Anna’s presence, always warm, always upbeat even when the world forced her down twisted paths. 

Anna tackled her midsection, pulling her into a tight hug, and Maren giggled when the squishing turned into tickles. She tried to escape, but ended up tripping and falling down her bedroll. Anna, impossible as she was, didn’t stop tickling until she was gasping for breath.

“I missed you,” Anna said, helping her sit up.

Maren cleared her throat and punched Anna on the shoulder, hard enough that it must have hurt a little. “I missed you too, you fiend.” Anna grinned. Maren poked her on the ribs. “So, what’s the mood for today? Are we talking about how dashing and handsome your fiancée is? Or are we talking about how much bullshit it is that you have to marry him on first place?”

Anna laughed, then let herself fall back on the bedroll and sighed. “I’m trying to make the best out of this. So is he, I think. He’s…” Anna smiled, her eyes twinkling as if she was telling an inner joke. “He’s not hideous.”

“That… sounds like your standards are concerningly low.” Maren laid down on her side and faced her.

Anna snorted. “Nah, he’s fine, really. Or well.” She shrugged. “As fine as a man I just met can be. He’s courteous enough. Handsome, too, I can’t complain about that. I haven’t known him long enough to tell about his character, but he seems as lost and well-intentioned as I am.”

Maren grunted. She couldn’t help it – she felt protective. From lifting Anna up on her shoulders to pick up fruits to competing to see who could swim faster, from cooking together to sleepovers on each other’s tents, Ryder’s giggles and Anna’s smile were essential parts of every one of her best memories. Maren couldn’t imagine her life without Anna. The mere thought made her heart ache.

“You know, if he pressures you about anything –“

“He hasn’t,” Anna reassured, but it did little to settle the twinge of worry in Maren’s stomach. “He won’t, I think. He’s a bit… I wouldn’t call him shy, but he’s introverted and proper. Not the type to make a move, I mean. I think I’ll have to initiate things, if I ever want them to move forward.”

“Mmh.” Maren tapped her finger against her leg, trying to dissipate the anxiety. “But, you know, just in case –“

“Yes,” Anna rolled her eyes, but her lips curled into a smile. “I’ll keep a knife on me at all times.” She said it in a mocking tone, and Maren scowled.

“I mean it!” Maren crossed her arms over her chest. “This is exactly why I spent so much time teaching you how to fight. If he so much as looks at you wrong, Anna, I swear, Ryder and I –“

“I _know_ ,” Anna poked her on the forehead. “And that’s why I can face this. Because I have you and Ryder and mom.” She sat back up. “And Elsa, too. She really came through for me, Maren. She… understands.” Anna shook her head. “Not that you don’t, I mean –“

“No, you’re right,” Maren sat, too, and crossed her legs. “I don’t get it, not really. I couldn’t imagine… being wed to someone I barely know, for one. Having decisions made for me like that, I…” She broke eye contact. “We grew up together. It’s easy for me to forget just how different our situations truly are. Elsa gets you in a way I never will, and… maybe that’s why I worry so much. Maybe part of this concern just comes from not understanding.”

“You worry because you care,” Anna rested her head on Maren’s shoulder. “And I’m lucky to be surrounded by so many loving people. Trust me, Elsa worries, too. Sometimes I think all she does is worry.”

“How is she doing, anyway? I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Anna was silent for a long while. When she spoke, her tone was somber. “It’s always hard to tell with her. But not too great, I think. She’s lonely. She’s hurting. It makes me hurt, too. I wish she'd come, but someone needs to watch Arendelle while dad is away. But if there’s one good thing about this whole sordid affair, it’s that I’ll get to see her more.”

Maren had vague memories of Elsa that seemed to dwindle with each passing year. They’d been friends when they were little, in the way most small children were friends with one another, albeit never particularly close. Maren distinctly remembered Elsa as an odd person, though even trying to recall her face felt like looking at a faded and yellowed picture – the thoughts were slippery, leaving behind a pang of nostalgia, that sense of strangeness and a clear image of ice-blue eyes. 

But Maren was straightforward about it – she didn’t need to remember. Elsa was important to Anna, and that knowledge was enough to make her care. “Will you move to Arendelle, then?”

“For a while, probably.” Anna’s face fell as she spoke. “It’s that or the Southern Isles, and of course I rather stay with Elsa, even if it my father happens to be around too. It’ll be a matter of pushing the right buttons, although sooner or later I’ll have to spend some time in the isles as well.”

It was such a violence, what they were doing to Anna – ripping her off the community she’d grown up in and placing her somewhere else, forcing her into entirely different values and lifestyle. And Maren could tell, from the rings under Iduna’s eyes, that she was not happy with it either.

Anna was a dear member of their community and everyone was miffed by it. It the cherry on top of the cake of offenses Arendelle had been delivering to the Northrulda ever since King Runeard first built the great dam. Like a powder keg near a fire, things between her people and the Arendellians were dangerously close to exploding, and Maren wondered whether this would be the spark that ignited chaos. But she kept those thoughts to herself, because this wasn’t about how _insulting_ it was for the Norhtrulda to be robbed of one of their own. It wasn’t about how unfair and infuriating it was.

This was about Anna, and Anna’s happiness, and nothing more than that. “What about here? Us? Will you come back?”

“Yeah, of course.” Her tone lacked conviction, and it broke Maren’s heart. She covered Anna’s hand with her own, and Anna sighed. “I mean… mother returned, didn’t she? I think that means I can, too. I –“ Her voice broke, and she scoffed, eyes filling with tears. “Ah, who am I fooling? Truth is, I don’t know what will be of me. And truth is, this party? It’s a goodbye, and we all know it. I’ll try to come back, Maren. And… I’ll miss you. Terribly. But I do what I must.”

She wanted to cry. She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it down. “You better. Ryder keeps trying to make me his new rival, but I’m too used to mediating between the two of you. I don’t have it in me to compete with him.”

Maren nudged her, and Anna pressed her face against Maren’s chest, body shaking with a strangled sob. _It’s not fair,_ she thought for the umpteenth time, but didn’t say it, because she knew it wouldn’t help. She rubbed Anna’s back instead, trying to be strong for her.

“I’ll come up with something to keep him busy,” Anna sniffled. “Some sort of… competitive letter writing. I don’t know.”

Maren snorted, then pressed a kiss against the top of Anna’s head. “I love you, silly.” She gave up on holding back her tears and just let them run down. “Spend the night with us. We can stay up late telling spooky stories, just how you like it.” She bumped their shoulders together. “And then, when morning comes, Ryder and I will find that prince of yours and give him a stern talking to.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Anna mumbled, but smiled. “And yes. Dad will object, but I don’t care. We’re having a sleepover. I’ll bring the snacks.” Anna wiped her eyes with her wrist. “And Maren? I love you too. Thank you.”

Maren felt the squeeze of anguish on her chest, and told herself it would be all right, and smiled.

“Anytime, Anna. Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i missed the sweet sensation of knowing i made everyone fucking miserable
> 
> "buttons where the fuck is my romance"  
> calm yo tits it's starting uhhh like 2 chapters from now for kristanna and 3 for elsamaren 
> 
> "buttons i'm reading this to see people kiss"  
> I KNOW, I'M SETTING UP A PLOT HERE, SHEESH, THEY'LL KISS EVENTUALLY
> 
> "Anna seems out of character"  
> probably because her background is very different from canon, and also because - you might have noticed this - she's kinda miserable
> 
> "I hate their dad with a passion"  
> mood


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _graphic depictions of violence_

From her position on top of the hill, Anna had a perfect view of prince Hans struggling to make his way up the rocky ground. It had been Maren’s idea to test his physical prowess and Ryder’s idea to pick that particularly unforgiving route. Anna had gone along with it to indulge them, though she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing him stumble.

And so it was that she’d nimbly climbed her way to the peak with practiced ease, leaving Hans stumbling to catch up. She watched him carefully test his weight against slippery soil, and snorted.

“Doing alright there?” She called out, taking a seat on the stone and letting her legs dangle over the edge.

Hans stopped to catch his breath and answer. His skin was flushed pink, though whether from the effort or from embarrassment, she couldn’t tell. “Yeah! I’m just heavier than you, so it takes me longer to find footing.”

Ryder had beat Anna up that peak many times and she knew for a fact that he was much heavier than Hans, but she chose to let the prince keep his excuse and whatever sliver of dignity he had left. She smirked. “You’re doing good!” And _yet,_ some level of teasing seemed to be in order. “For a beginner, I mean!”

Hans scowled. “Very funny!”

His voice echoed on the stone walls, and from the corner of her eyes, Anna saw wild animals stir and run at the sound. “Who’s laughing? I’m not laughing.”

“I’ll make you pay for this!” Hans promised, and Anna broke into giggles. He resumed his walk. “Just wait until –“he gasped for breath, “ - until I get up there!”

“Waiting,” Anna swung her legs back and forth, then mentally counted back from ten. “Still waiting! You know it’s rude to keep a lady –”

He jumped up, gripping the edge of the rock. Anna let her eyes appreciatively stop on the shape of his arms. He didn’t have the upper body strength to pull himself up without using his feet for a boost, and she briefly entertained the thought of offering him her hand, but decided it would be too emasculating.

“See?” Hans crawled the final distance, dragging his belly on the ground, then pushed himself to a sitting position. “I made it!”

Anna smirked and tapped him on the shoulder. “That you did.” She took a moment to appreciate his features, the way sweat made his hair cling to his head. She acknowledged his attractiveness so she could treat it with detachment and prevent it from surprising her. “How do you like the view?”

“It’s beautiful,” Hans said, looking around. It wasn’t the tallest peak in the forest, or the one with the prettiest sights, but Anna appreciated it nonetheless. Hans turned back to her. “There are no places like this in the isles. The trees there are taller and their foliage is so thick, it blocks out the sun. But my favorite resting spots are the warm beaches.”

He meant no harm with the words, but they still made Anna’s heart squeeze. The knowledge that she was headed to a place where not even the trees looked the same was anguishing. She pulled her legs from the edge and hugged them.

Hans frowned, noticing the change in her mood. He reached out for her hand, but changed his mind halfway. “I can bring you back here when you start missing the sights, you know.”

Anna narrowed her eyes, paying close attention to his expression. She considered his words. It wasn’t true and she knew it – the harsh reality was that once she left for the isles, she would only ever come back for diplomacy, and likely to Arendelle rather than the north. But he seemed genuine in his intentions, and Anna wondered whether he was naïve or, perhaps, whether he just wanted to offer her some comfort. “Thank you,” she offered, choosing a neutral reply.

Hans crossed his legs. “You know, I… this is an unusual situation for me.” He made eye contact. “But I’ll make it work, I promise you this. I’ll make you happy.”

 _Well-intentioned,_ she decided, from the eagerness in his eyes and the serious frown that furrowed his brow, _if a little bit simple-minded_. She took his hand and smiled. “Then I’ll do my best, too.” Anna squeezed his fingers. “But I’m quite the piece of work, you see. I’m loud. And energetic. I don’t stay idle for long, so you’ll have to find me things to do.”

“I think that’s cute,” He smiled back at her, then changed his expression to something that looked like reverence. “I think you’re cute. Or, well. Truly beautiful.”

Not exactly where Anna had wanted to take the conversation, but she accepted the flattery with a gracious nod. “Of course you say that. We are to be wed, after all.”

“I would say it even if we weren’t. I would –“ He broke eye contact and stared down the rock, “I would climb as many damn slippery rocks as you want, just so I could see you smile at me again.”

Anna let go of his hand and placed it on the cool stone. She licked her lips and drummed her finger against the rock, lost in thought. There was a gut feeling, a twinge of warning perhaps, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “You’re far too kind.”

“I try my best to be a nice guy,” He bit his bottom lip for a moment, as if considering a thought. “I… I have twelve older brothers. Most of which are not nice to me.” He shrugged. “So I’m not even the spare. I’m… irrelevant in the power scheme, which sort of makes me irrelevant for the family, too. Insignificant. And I hate it. I hate being nothing more than a bargain chip. And I hate the idea behind this marriage, but I didn’t think… I didn’t account for you. I don’t hate you, Anna. Quite the opposite. I’ve grown rather fond of you.”

 _You don’t know me,_ something deep inside her yelled, and she frowned at the thought. Of course he didn’t know her, they hadn’t had the time to get close to each other. And _yet_. “I can relate to that,” she offered him an apologetic shrug. “Although to be honest, being the spare worked out well for me. Elsa got all of father’s attention, and that’s more a burden than a privilege. Perhaps your brothers feel the same way?” Anna stopped the rhythmic tapping of her finger. “The way they see things might surprise you.”

“I find it hard to empathize with them,” Hans admitted. “They have never been good to me – save for Lars, I suppose. The twins, Rudi and Runo, they’re the ones who have hurt me the most.” He tilted his head. “I was under the impression your relationship with your sister was quite strained?”

Anna tensed. Her relationship with Elsa was an elusive thing to most, because they wanted it to be that way – she and her sister loved each other to death, but the more they showed it, the more they were kept apart or pushed against one another. It wasn’t Hans’ misreading of the situation that got her attention, but rather the fact that he had that information at all. “You’ve been talking to my father, I see.”

He shrugged. “I spent a lot of time with him on the way here. And I wanted to know more about you – that’s important to me.”

She looked away, losing her gaze on the horizon. Asides from Maren and Ryder, no one else really knew just how deep the bond between she and Elsa ran, not even their mother. Maybe she’d grant Hans that knowledge, some day. But his question, innocent or not, had raised an alert. “There’s not much to it,” the lie came easily, and Anna hated herself a little for that. “I wouldn’t call it strained, just distant. We weren’t raised together. She’s not unkind to me, if a bit cold.”

“I wish I could say the same of my siblings.” Hans shifted, stretching out his legs. “No relationship is better than a bad relationship, after all. Instead I have to deal with petty power disputes, rudeness, pointless violence and being the scapegoat to cruel fools.”

“I’m sorry this has been your experience,” Anna turned to face him, glad that the conversation had taken a different turn. “In that case, it might be better if you stay with us in Arendelle. I’m sure you’d have the best treatment.”

“So your father has promised,” Hans nodded, thoughtful. “It would be a good opportunity for me to learn how to rule, too. I never got a chance back home. Although…” He shrugged. “I sure won’t get anywhere near the throne of the Southern Islands, what with how many people there are ahead of me on the line. So I don’t know why I’d ever need such skills.”

“Father has no male sons. He’d be happy to show you the ropes. Though I’m not very likely to go anywhere near the throne, either – father still has many years on him, and by the time he leaves us, Elsa will probably have children of her own already.”

“It bothers me a little, I think,” Hans looked at her. “That I’ll never get to be king. That I’m so close to it, but also so far.”

 _It doesn’t bother me at all,_ Anna thought. “Why do you want it?”

“I suppose I just want a chance…” He shrugged. “A chance to prove myself.”

“Mmh.” Anna supposed a certain amount of ambition was healthy. Her treacherous mind latched on something else, too: his show of vulnerability and insecurity, and she filed it away should she ever need it. “I find that proving yourself is only ever worth it to the right people… and the right people are those who see value in you before you ever have to. The right people…” She shrugged. “You want to be good for them because they deserve the best, not because they always demand from you more than you can logically give.”

There was a moment of silence where Hans frowned, considering her words, and then he broke into a smile which, for some reason, Anna found profoundly chilling. “You’re very sweet.”

Again her gut feeling told her something was off, and again she couldn’t quite pinpoint it, except there was a certain way the conversation always turned back to him, there was something dismissive in his voice even if his words were kind, and she couldn’t help but feel talked down to. She narrowed her eyes, thoughtful. “Thank you. I…” she hesitated. She didn’t know how to articulate on the feeling, how to put it to proof, whether there was even an issue at all. “This is a difficult situation, for sure. I’m glad we’re getting along.”

“I think you will be a wonderful wife. And I’ll rise up to the challenge and be a good husband.”

There was such an eagerness in his eyes when he said it, such a softness to his smile, and Anna felt a bit of her misgivings dissipate. He was a bit self-centered, a bit insecure, stuck on performative aspects of masculinity, but Anna remembered her mother’s words, and seeing how he looked at her, she thought it would be easy.

She thought he was so close to loving her, so excited to finally have someone to love, that all he needed was a little push.

“I’m sure you will,” Anna smiled, and leaned in.

She felt in control when she kissed him.

She felt like things would be all right.

* * *

It was a fortunate coincidence, almost fate, that Maren saw what she saw that night.

The whole day had been a mess of emotions – from the tentative relief at Anna’s reassurances that she and Hans were getting along, to a constant background of bitter resentment, to genuine joy at seeing someone she loved reach a milestone in life, even if in a less-than-ideal manner.

Maren had every intention of giving Hans the scary talk. She didn’t mean it as a threat, per se, but rather as a warning. Leaving or not, Anna had people who cared about her, and she’d make sure he knew it, if only to discourage any shady business. It was a silly thing, and Anna had told her that multiple times, but Maren still felt it was an important step, maybe even part of her own mourning process.

And so when she saw Hans sneak out of the party with a pair of bodyguards, she decided to tag along, finally seeing an opportunity to have an actual conversation with the man. That was the plan, at least. And then she saw King Agnarr join the small group, and the plan changed. Because Maren loved Anna, she really did, but that feeling did not extend to her father, and she would never pass up a chance of acquiring intel on the king’s next idea to screw her people over.

Maren followed them into the woods, her silent steps contrasting sharply with the men’s stumbling. Hans and Agnarr walked ahead, which meant Maren had to dodge the guard’s attention, but the men were far too drunk and she was familiar with the terrain. She dodged behind trees and bushes, straining her hearing to try and understand what the two were talking about.

“…very happy with how things turned out,” Agnarr crunched branches under his boot. “I hope our relationship with the Isles will continue to be this fruitful.”

Their tones dropped to a level Maren couldn’t quite hear, and when their noisy movements stopped, she halted in place. The guards had stopped following them to start a drunken scuffle, and she was struck by irritation at their loudness. She risked a peek and saw that Hans had stopped to lean against a tree, and the way he put his arms behind his back made him seem a little tipsy –

Except Maren hadn’t seen him drink all night, and despite his slouched pose, his eyes lacked the half-lidded, distant look of men who had drunk enough to have trouble standing.

She didn’t hear what Agnarr said next, but she didn’t need to. Without any warning, Hans lunged forward, and she saw the sharp glistening of metal flash under the sun, and then there was a wet sound and a splash of bright red covered Hans’ face, droplets rolling down his cheek.

Agnarr took his hand to his throat, making a strangled sound, and the guards raced into view. For a moment that seemed frozen in time, she saw the king struggle to get any words out, blood flowing freely between his fingers, and Hans… Hans watched. He watched with a face of impassiveness and cold glint on his eyes, and when Agnarr fell to his knees, she saw Hans’ lips curl into the slightest of smirks.

He raised his head, and Maren ducked back behind a tree, holding her breath, praying to the gods that she hadn’t been seen. If Hans had noticed her, he didn’t show it, and once again she heard a scuffle of his guards.

“Give me the blade,” Hans said, and there was the sound of a sword being drawn. “Not your sword, you dim-witted brute. The blade you snatched from the savages. Bury it there, right above his heart – never mind. Just give it to me.”

 _He’s framing us,_ Maren realized, a chill crawling up her spine. Hans would pin the blame of the king’s murder on the Northrulda, and she knew right then that it would _work_ – the relationship with Arendelle was already strained, and most of the Northrulda were, at some level, offended by that marriage.

It didn’t matter that this kind of dishonest backstabbing was not the Northruldan way at all. It didn’t matter that no one but Hans and his goons were witnesses. A single planted dagger and a badly spun story would be enough, because people needed very little to believe what they wanted to believe, and the truth was that to the average Arendellian, her people were nothing but the same savages Hans saw them as.

She heard a squelching sound, and then Hans’ voice again. “Hit me.”

Maren’s heart drummed uncomfortably in her chest, her stomach turning. She risked another peek, and saw the guards looking at one another sheepishly. “Wh – what?” 

“Hit me,” Hans repeated, tapping his own cheek. “I need it to seem as if there was a struggle.”

The guards mumbled among themselves, pushing one another, neither quite wanting to do it. Hans scowled, and they quickly straightened their backs. One of them took a step forward and punched Hans square in the jaw, hard enough that he backed away, clutching his face.

Hans turned his head and spat blood, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His white glove came back stained. And then Maren saw it in his eyes again – the hungry look, the sick cruelty. Hans closed the distance between him and the guard and punched the man on the stomach, then grabbed the guard’s hair and brought his knee up, hitting the face.

Maren heard the crunching of bone. Hans struck again, driving the heel of his boot against the man’s knee so that it bent to the wrong side with a _crack_. The guard fell, screaming, and Hans kicked him again, over. Even as he was hit, even as his ribs cracked, the man on the ground did not try to defend himself – nor did his friend try to stop Hans.

Maren took the full sight in – the blood drying on Hans’ skin, the grunts of pain, the paralyzed, submissive fear on the guard’s face, and worst still, the almost clinical indifference in Hans’ expression. She understood something then, just as he pulled the gloves off his hands and used them to wipe his cheek.

 _I thought he was enjoying it,_ she once again hid amidst the bushes. _I thought he took some sadistic pleasure from the violence._ Yet the vacant look in his eyes spoke of an even more chilling truth. _But I don’t think he feels anything at all._

And that, perhaps, was why she hadn’t seen it before – why not even Anna had seen it. Because the monster inside him wasn’t a roaring beast, but rather a careful predator – cold, patient, and brutal solely because he could be. Maren took a deep, shaky breath, and once again stepped out of sight.

Maren felt dizzy, panic creeping into her body and making her fingers tremble. She took a couple seconds to get her thoughts back in track and put together a makeshift plan. She snuck away from the horrid scene as quietly as she could, but she could only force herself to move slowly for so long, and after what she felt was a safe distance, she broke into a run back to the party.

She estimated she had minutes – five, ten at most – before Hans returned and raised the alarm, throwing the party into chaos. She searched, unsure about whom she was searching for, and saw with relief that her brother approached. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to make some sort of dumb joke, but Maren was faster.

“Ryder,” She took a split second to make sure no one was within earshot. “We need to – “ _What? We need to what?_ “ – there has been a betrayal. The king is dead.”

“I – what?” He must have seen the seriousness in her face, because he dropped his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“By Hans’ hand. Going to pin it on us. We have minutes, Arendelle brought so many fucking soldiers –“ She shook her head. “Where’s Anna? I need to tell her – shit, if Agnarr is dead, her sister is the queen – Ryder, they need to know the truth. And we have to warn our people if we don’t want this to turn into a massacre –”

“I got this.” Ryder ran his hand through his hair, tense, eyes darting around the party. “Go. Find Anna, she’ll listen to you, and Elsa listens to Anna and no one else. I’ll handle things here.”

“Brother –“

There was the sound of raised voices and a commotion starting to brew. “No time,” Ryder took a step back, eyes darting around the clearing. “Go to the Troll Valley. Find Kristoff – tell him I sent you. He’ll get you into the city.”

“Kristoff,” she repeated, nodding. “Okay.” She looked her brother in the eyes in what she felt would be the last time for a long, long while. “Ryder –“

He winked. “Love you too, sis. Now go, go!”

Maren did. She burst through groups of drunk people, pushing and shoving, the world around her a blur, until she spotted upon the crowd the familiar red hair. Anna stood among a group of Arendellians, politely smiling with a glass of wine in hand, and Maren slowed down to approach and avoid alarming them, given that she was outnumbered.

“Anna,” She greeted, and their eyes met. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to talk - alone.” Anna arched an eyebrow at her, and Maren added, “It’s about… well, you know…” She shrugged, hopeless, too busy thinking of an escape route.

“The honeymoon preparations, of course,” Anna completed seamlessly, then offered the group a polite nod. “Gentlefolk, if you’ll excuse me.”

Maren grabbed Anna’s wrist and pulled her along to a fairly secluded corner next to a tent. She could hear the yelling voices grow louder, and her pulse quickened with each new shout. Anna, probably sensing the severity of the situation, didn’t protest even as Maren took her further from the party.

“Maren –“ Anna said finally, when they were almost at the edge of the woods, in the opposite direction of where Maren had followed Hans.

“We have to go,” Maren kept on tugging her, but Anna dug her heels and stopped.

“You have to tell me what’s going on first.” There were clashes of metal, and the screams became louder and clearer. “What the –“

Maren’s chest tightened with anguish. She pushed away thoughts of her family, her friends, her elders. Some wouldn’t make it through the night. But what she had to do would define the fates of those who lived. She grabbed Anna by the shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

Anna frowned, still glancing back at the party. “Yes. No questions.”

“Hans isn’t who you think he is. He –“ She hesitated, unsure how to deliver such crushing news with so little time. But this was Anna – the woman she’d grown up with. She could handle it. She would handle it. “Your father is dead. They’ll say we did it, that our people had reasons too, but I saw it, Anna. It was him. And I don’t know what he plans to do with you, but I don’t intend to find out. We need to -”

“Elsa. Yes. Fuck,” Anna grit her teeth. “The whole fucking southern navy is in Arendelle. They said it was to escort Hans but of course, of _course_ –“

“She’s resourceful,” Maren took Anna’s hand and squeezed. “And so is Ryder. I gave him a warning, he’ll look out for everyone, but we need to tell your sister –“

“Hey!” A male voice sounded, and she saw a trio of soldiers running their way, “The princess is here! Come on!”

“Son of a – let’s go!” She heard the sound of an arrow zipping and pushed Anna away on reflex, stepping back as she did it. Maren didn’t give them time to shoot again – she broke into a run, bending down to grab a sharp rock as she did it. The soldiers yelled and she heard the sounds of more boots approaching.

Maren turned around, startled to see them way closer than she’d expected for a bunch of drunk men – and a thought briefly crossed her mind that perhaps they, too, had been waiting for this. She didn’t waste time, throwing the rock at the closest man with deadly precision. It hit his jaw, making him stagger and giving her precious extra seconds.

When the soldier next to the one she’d knocked down fell, she realized that Anna, apparently, had the same idea. Their eyes met once again and she saw Anna’s brow furrowed in concentration despite the way her pupils were wide with fear. Maren was sure she must have looked the same.

Not wanting to waste any more time, she broke into a run, knowing Anna would follow. They entered the woods together, rushing past trees and hopping over bushes. It was a relief that didn’t have to look around, because Anna was just as familiar with the grounds as she was and would keep up.

They had a synchrony to their escape – every once in a while, she’d feel a tap on her shoulder or a tug on her sleeve and would immediately change directions, making a sharp turn to the left or circling back entirely. Likewise, whenever she recognized a dead end she’d whistle, leading them to a different escape route. Sure enough, the voices of their pursuers began to fade, and Maren deemed it safe enough to pause and catch her breath.

“You’re bleeding,” Anna muttered between gasps, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. She’d made a point to be wed in traditional Northruldan attire, which was a fortunate thing, because Maren doubted she would have made it this far in a fancy Arendelle dress. “I think we lost them.”

Maren took her hand to a burning spot on her cheek. “Must have hit it on a branch, I don’t know. Didn’t even feel the pain.” Her own words came with difficulty, and she could hear her drumming heart, feeling as if it was about to jump out of her chest. There was an acrid smell in the air, and when she raised her head, she saw smoke rising from the direction of the village.

Anna turned around to look at it, and though Maren couldn’t see her face, her voice betrayed her anguish. “What now?”

 _What now,_ Maren asked herself, and her thoughts went back to the people she was about to leave behind. Her brother was smart, but too selfless for his own good, and she couldn’t help but worry for him. The Northroulda would endure – they always did – but Maren knew that the longer it took for the fighting to stop, the bigger their losses would be.

“Now, we find the herd,” She replied, without tearing her eyes from the sky. “We’ll need the reindeer to ride south. We move fast. I think your escape just ruined Hans’ plan. It’s impossible to tell what he’ll do next.”

“They might be off to kill her,” This time, Anna’s impassive tone of voice was not compatible with the turmoil Maren knew she felt. “Or they would have been, at least, so I could be crowned queen in her place. But now… I don’t know, Maren.” She bunched the cloth of her skirt in her hand. “I underestimated him. Shit. I thought he was insecure and eager, not – Maren, what did you _see?”_

Maren bit her lip, made brief eye contact and looked away. “There’s something wrong with him, Anna. Something deeply monstrous, horrific, and I don’t know how I didn’t notice it either, except I don’t think he feels… _anything_. I don’t know if one can be human and be like that, but that’s how he is.”

“A husk of a being pretending to be human,” Anna muttered, “If that’s what he is, if he’s been that way all his life, then it’s no wonder he fooled us all.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “I need to…”

She didn’t finish. _You need to grieve_ , Maren thought, and reached out to touch Anna’s shoulder. She tried her best to seem less disturbed than she actually was, tried not to think of the stark contrast of crimson blood on white skin, a slice through the throat just like the ones she’d do with the prey she hunted except she always made it quick –

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Maren squeezed her fingers.

Anna covered Maren’s hand with her own and squeezed back. “He was not a good father,” she lost her gaze amidst the trees and Maren saw her eyes fill with tears. “Not to me, not to Elsa either. But I had hopes, deep down, that maybe someday… I don’t know. I don’t grieve the man he was, but I grieve the one he could have been.”

Maren didn’t know what to say to this, but she knew Anna well enough to tell that often, words weren’t necessary. She took a step forward and pulled her into a hug, letting Anna’s face press into her shoulder and running her fingers through her hair, undoing the braids. “We’ll figure it out,” she held her close. “I have a plan.”

“I’m shit with plans,” Anna replied with a broken voice. “That’s Elsa’s thing, not mine. I improvise.”

“The plan is to find your sister so she can make the rest of the plan,” Maren smiled, sheepish, and Anna snorted despite her tears. “We’ll figure it out,” she repeated. “Or she will, probably.”

“Yeah,” Anna took a deep breath, straightening her back, and the steel of determination was back in her eyes. “So where are we headed?”

“To the Troll Valley,” Maren dusted herself and searched the sky for the sun, so she’d know the way. “To a friend of my brother’s. A man named Kristoff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "buttons it's been ages, where have you been?"  
> there is virus  
> i am doctor  
> there might be more typos than usual. i am tired
> 
> "What's up with Hans?"  
> he's evil. narcissistic or antisocial, i haven't quite decided yet, but i'll make up my mind as i go. special thanks to [Lazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_universes) for helping me out with the evil bit. and for slowly losing her sanity with me, i guess. 
> 
> do you introvert bookish types know what happens to me, an extrovert bookish type, when i spend this long without seeing my friends? i go absolutely fucking rabid, that's what. feral. like a raccoon on cocaine. so does lazy. sometimes we call each other on discord solely to scream.
> 
> "What's the plan for next chapter?"  
> assassination attempts, a dashing escape, a frozen heart, communism


End file.
